No Questions, No Answers
by Saphira112
Summary: Oneshot. A mission goes horribly wrong and Wufei must care for Duo... or rather, what remains of Duo.


No Questions, No Answers

Oneshot

There was a scream.

_He_... was screaming.

The sound was torn out of his throat by wretched hands as his skin exploded in a torrent of pain, a strong wave of hot energy crashing down on the shore that were his nerve endings. The fire was burning on his skin, searing through it, a hot knife through butter. The hairs on the nape of his neck vanished in small wisps of smoke and the edge of his braided hair caught the flame. The red energy burned through his shirt, attacking his back, shoulders, and sides of his tied hair. His hair... he had always loved it. He loved it wavy, free but also tied, knotted like a rope and most of all... the length. He turned and let out another hoarse cry as he breathed in thick smoke and the flames licked his bare sides. Each second that passed erupted more cries from his vocal chords already choked with smoke and ash. Each second that passed, he thought it would never stop.

Then it did.

It was a sudden strike to his mind as a cold shadow wrapped around him and quelled the angry fire. The skin that had hissed was now mute. The screams that had erupted from his throat were now deaf to his ears. The icy darkness held him in hands calloused with time and aging with death.

He wondered if the God of Death had finally been done in.

-x-

Wufei eyed Duo as the other pilot lay unconscious on the bed of their hideout. The boy was in terrible shape. Had Wufei not found Duo earlier, the pilot would be more than just charred within an inch of his life. He'd be _dead_. He was practically a wasted torch, what with the burns covering his torso and cascading down his back. His long braid was now shorter. Instead of stopping at his thighs, it was up to his middle back; only a little more than half had burned off. The hair had been lucky, surprisingly. The rest of Duo certainly wasn't. He was wrapped up at the moment, but Wufei remembered every burn mark that Duo now carried.

Starting on his face, there was a burn on his left cheek, dangerously close to the eye that went down to his chin. It was slightly blotchy, red, but it wasn't too serious. It was worse the farther south the outside eyes went. On his neck, there were burns that looked like claw marks, decorating the sides of Duo's throat as if an eagle had closed in on his trachea in the wrong fashion.

One of the burns continued further down and streaked across Duo's right breast before blossoming there, concentrated, a nasty third degree burn. The area was whiter than Duo's normal skin tone, edged black with ash and obvious infection. His shoulders had gotten third degree burns also. One large burn covered Duo's middle and lower back, a second-degree burn that would've been worse had he not unconsciously given up half his hair for a lesser wound.

There was also a burn that edged along Duo's waistline like a thin trail, as the flames had not been able to sear through his belt before Wufei had caught him and extinguished the fire. The sleeves had burned off quickly and the burns there were also second degree, spreading across the damaged skin like a tribal design, rippling out and stretching. Almost like a snake curling around its prey.

The worst of it, in Wufei's opinion, was that the cross Duo wore around his neck on that chain had turned white-hot against the fire and burned the outline of the chain all around his neck like a ridiculous tattoo, coming to the middle of his chest with the imprint of the pendant, the edges dark and the middle completely white. One of the worst third degree burns Duo had on him. He had also lost the necklace as the chain broke under the pressure and half-melted against him.

The Chinese male sighed quietly, closing his eyes, erasing the events from five hours earlier from his mind. The mission had gone horribly wrong. Disastrous. He opened his eyes. When it came to the war, any soldier that could be a hindrance was left behind. If they were a burden, if they became a problem to the mission, no matter how great their skills were, they were to be left behind. Somehow, seeing Duo engulfed in flames, Wufei knew there was no way he was going to allow the pilot to die. Not in that way. There was no honor in it. None. And Wufei would disgrace himself by allowing it to happen.

Wufei turned to look at his comrade again. He had washed and dressed the wounds, administering ointment where it was needed the most. They were low on that, but thankfully not on bandages. Their hideout was a small hut safely located under the cover of a forest, hidden in a mountain far off from where their target had been. Because Wufei was intent on getting Duo out of there with no further harm, the target had escaped. Now Heero, Trowa, or Quatre would need to clean up their mess. Well, now that Wufei thought about it, he wouldn't call it a 'mess', exactly. But even so, one of the other three remaining would have to do it. Wufei would normally finish it himself, but seeing as how Duo would be unconscious for a bit – although who knew when he was going to get up – and knowing when he _did_ wake up, he'd wake up screaming, not even adding the fact he was too far injured to deal with the burns by himself. He was going to have trouble moving his arms, not to mention anything between his shoulders and his waist.

Wufei knew that Duo wouldn't care about what happened to his skin. He knew that the one thing he'd care about was his hair. That long mane he tied back into a thick rope that rippled like a long brown wave down his back was Duo's pride and joy. When he woke up, after feeling the obvious pain and realizing what had happened, Wufei knew he'd mourn the loss of his hair.

But the God of Death was still in the mortal world.

-x-

Wufei was right.

Duo woke up in the middle of the night, his hoarse voice screaming, taking time to breathe, only to let loose more cries. The amethyst eyes once filled with joy were bleeding with pain; the color was dark and hot, _burning_ hot, the heat taking form and falling down his cheeks. Wufei had been meditating just in the other room when the first scream reached his ears and he shot up. Duo wasn't coherent when Wufei entered the room. Duo – even riddled with pain – could still put up a fight. Wufei knew he'd feel the bruise on his wrist later.

He was still screaming and it was loud and hell if Wufei's ears weren't already ringing. A punch came at his face, desperate and wavering and he blocked the fist while grabbing hold of it with his other hand, keeping it place. Duo grit his teeth, fighting the pain while he tried to free his hand, but Wufei ended up pressing two fingers under Duo's upper arm, hitting a pressure point that caused his arm to become slack. Wufei released the arm and retrieved the syringe, injecting the sedative into Duo's system. Then he let go. He waited for the drug to kick in.

Duo's screams died down considerably and Wufei let out a long sigh. He didn't struggle much after that. His breathing slowed and his eyes opened more as the pain faded from his conscious, leaving his mind open to everything else. The ceiling. The bed on which he lay on. The fact he was half-covered in bandages. And...

"F-Fei?" His voice was hoarse, his vocals clogged with the aftermath of his inhalation of ash. Wufei tilted his head up for him to drink some water. It was cold, icy, startling for a tongue that felt like a lump of ash and Duo choked on the first sip, spitting it out as if it were something foul he didn't want to associate himself with. Eventually, Wufei got half the glass down Duo's throat before setting it beside the bed. The Chinese male sat with a stone-faced expression, waiting to see if Duo would say anything else.

Duo still looked like he felt the pain while he attempted to clear his throat in order to speak. His chapped lips split and cracked in a few places as he tried hard to speak a full sentence. "The target... did it—"

"It's taken care of," Wufei replied quickly. He had notified the others already and knew it would be taken care of rather quickly.

Duo seemed to take that as an acceptable answer and cleared his throat again. He looked to be contemplating what to ask next. His body... he could hardly feel it. "How bad... am I?"

Wufei hesitated on his answer. He could tell Duo everything or tell him some and have him find out the rest later or withhold it all and let him figure it out. The last one was cruel; Wufei shook it from his mind. He spoke instead. He told Duo of all his burns, his shoulders and his arms, his chest, his back and finally... his hair. The look on Duo's face was enough to make Wufei wish he hadn't said anything.

Duo looked completely stricken. His lips set into a thin line and his eyes narrowed slightly. The tissue around his eyes scrunched up, almost as if in pain, but of the different sort. Duo gulped once, then twice. He turned his face away from Wufei and the Chinese male watched him. There was no sound. And then, a soft sniffling noise. Duo was biting his lip. From where Wufei sat, he could hardly tell, but knew from the way his cheeks hollowed slightly and the muffled noise that Duo was trying his hardest not to show how much of an attachment he had to his hair.

Then, those sad eyes turned on him. The Chinese pilot froze, blinking slowly, trying not to break the contact.

"Thanks," the injured pilot whispered.

Wufei never asked why Duo said that.

-x-

The next few days were quiet, for the most part. When Duo woke up after the sedative wore of, there were always some cries that escaped him, no matter how much he grit his teeth or bit into his pillow or sheets. Wufei sometimes didn't inject him for lingering fear that too much of it would harm his system while it healed. Duo didn't say anything to Wufei's care. He did not complain when Wufei decided to not inject him after the second day, despite how his body yearned to be free of the pain. He bit back any pleading noises. He would endure it. In his head, verses from the holy books flew behind his eyes, keeping his thoughts off the pain.

Those verses did not always help. The third night was harsher and Duo could not hold back how painful it was. The dressings needed to be changed, but Duo couldn't stop his body from thrashing around, as if trying to shed the wounded skin to be free from the vicious teeth gnawing at his nerves, both damaged and very much alive.

"Are you trying to punish me?" Duo asked in a quiet voice one night, four days after the incident, when he had considerably calmed down. He had been able to sit up properly by then without help. He healed fast, but once his nerves repaired, he was going to go through hell again with his third degree burns, especially the one on his chest, the cross.

Wufei shook his head slowly. "Of course not. None of it was your fault."

Duo did not smile.

-x-

They needed to be changed.

It was early evening when Wufei mentioned cleaning and re-dressing; with his logic, if Duo felt pain, he'd be able to sleep it off afterwards. Duo had complied, however, he had done so in an abnormally quiet voice.

Wufei sat beside the other boy, slowly unwrapped the dressings that covered practically Duo's entire torso. With each turn, each line unraveled, more of the damaged skin met the Chinese boy's dark, concentrated eyes. They flashed in the dim light of their hut, the small portable lights set up in the corners of the room so there was a sense of balance. Wufei's eyes flicked up once, tracing the burn from Duo's left shoulder and down his chest, watching as it turned into a large blotch of marred skin, white blooming out to red and ending with edged grey, a final outline to a wound so harsh.

Wufei then moved behind Duo to get the ones off his back. The eyes flicked back to Duo's hair, damaged. So short it was, but there was still plenty to braid. However... Wufei hesitantly touched it.

Duo flinched; his head whipped around quickly on reflex and a fist came up, but Wufei blocked it swiftly with a flat hand, his eyes boring into the clouded amethyst that had turned to stare at him. The Chinese boy's gaze did not hesitate, did not waver. Eventually, Duo's eyes widened a fraction and softened in realization. Slowly, his fist fell and Wufei lowered his own hand, still feeling the force of Duo's awkward attack. Duo then turned his gaze away, biting his lip, unsure of what to say. Wufei tilted his head slightly, his free hand in his lap and his other paused at the rest of the soiled bandages he needed to remove.

"Sorry," Duo muttered. "Reflex."

Wufei nodded. He went back to unwrapping the bandages. He had Duo strip down the rest of the way – though he kept a pair of pants on – before leading the injured boy to the washroom's tub full of cool water. Getting Duo to stand up was hard enough, but sitting back down was practically torture. Still, Wufei placed his warm hand on Duo's back – any part that wasn't already burned – and kept the other pilot steady in lowering him into the water. The temperature affected Duo faster than expected as the instinct within Duo told him to jump away from it, which caused Wufei to become off balance and they both fell into the cool water.

Duo cringed and bit down a cry of pain as he hit the bottom of the tub rather harshly. Wufei did not look pleased when he was able to get himself out of the water. His tied hair was wet and a few strands escaped his ponytail, falling down in front of his face. His tank top was completely soaked, but luckily his pants were still dry. The Chinese male discarded his top without so much as a second glance and then worked on getting Duo cleaned up, not noticing the flushed expression on Duo's face.

Wufei worked slowly, but thoroughly, slowing down even more – however that was possible – when Duo showed any signs of discomfort. Wufei was known for his patience, albeit thin. For something like this, it was totally different. He took the cool cloth and pressed it gently, firmly, on the burns, sliding lightly on the edges, but pressing hard where it was the worst. Wufei started with Duo's back first, pressing in pats and dabs across the red, angry wound. The nerves were not completely gone there. That one was probably one of the worst at this point in time, so he took his time on the large wound.

He timed everything in his head and shifted when necessary. He moved to Duo's shoulders, then down his arms. The deep black eyes would wander up every now and then to Duo's face, searching for signs if he were pressing too hard. Wufei had picked up early what pressures were acceptable where, but each burn was different. Each burn had a different pressure. It was just Wufei's job to memorize them all until Duo healed.

After what felt somewhere near an hour, Wufei was left with just the cross imprint and the slight burn to Duo's cheek. Wufei gently slid the cloth over the burned chain tattoo decorating the collar of the other male and stretching down. It wasn't until he got to the cross burn that Duo sucked in a breath and grit his teeth, not able to hold back the hiss. Wufei paused, waiting until Duo's discomfort mellowed out. Then he pressed again. And again, that same reaction.

Wufei shifted on his knees, preventing them from growing numb as he had been in the same position for a while. Tilting his head slightly, Wufei got a better angle and gently placed the cloth over the cross, his hand flat against it, pressing with the same firmness as a ghost would. Hovering and waiting. The cross burn imprint was located right against Duo's sternum and Wufei pressed a little more firmly. He got that hiss again, but he didn't take the cool cloth away this time. He waited and waited and when Duo's hiss faded and his breathing was more even, Wufei moved the cloth gently over the burn. He turned his hand over so that his knuckles were pushing the cloth against the burn. It was gentler and still got the job done.

All the while he did this, he felt Duo's eyes on him. Watching him. Trying to piece together why he was given so much care. By this time, Duo could've probably taken up to wrapping himself, but Wufei would hear none of it. It was quite bad, when one thought about it. A normal person would've been still in bed, screaming his head off, crying and begging for sleep or death or _anything_ to stop the pain.

Normal people weren't Gundam pilots. For good reason.

The cloth came up to Duo's cheek, making the pilot blink in surprise. The cool, wet material on his cheek felt like a caress, as his nerves were the least damaged there out of anywhere else. Duo's slightly shaking purple eyes glanced up at met deep, deep brown-black eyes, concentrated on cleaning the burn. Upon closer inspection, Duo discovered that Wufei had flecks of gold coloring in his eyes, like the copper rings people sometimes had around their pupils.

Those flecks of gold were the light Duo had to strive to remember.

-x-

Wufei was meditating in his room when Duo walked in unsteadily on his feet, a bandaged arm and hand hanging onto the door frame. Hearing the footsteps earlier, Wufei focused on the noise, sensing it coming closer. Slowly, he opened his eyes as Duo entered, tilting his head ever so slightly. Eyes inquiring.

There was a silence between them. The Chinese male sitting cross-legged on the floor, wrapped in his white uniform stared back up at the injured pilot hanging onto the frame and the wall for support, as if he were afraid to walk out in the open with nothing to grasp onto. The silence between the healing and the healer wasn't as awkward as it had been earlier. It was slightly comfortable, but it had to be broken at some point.

"You're so patient with me," Duo finally said. His voice was clearer, but he spoke much quieter. It held a hidden question, his own curiosity made known.

Wufei's dark eyes shifted slightly, flickering in the dim light of his room. "A hot-tempered man stirs up dissension, but a patient man calms a quarrel."

Duo blinked slowly. "Proverbs 15:18... I didn't know you read the Bible.."

Wufei snorted gently. "I don't."

Duo blinked again. Then smiled.

-x-

He wanted the braid again.

Duo reached back and toyed with his significantly shorter hair. His head felt lighter, sure, and that was always a good feeling. But this time, it wasn't, with the feeling of dread creeping about and resting on his injured shoulders. Duo had a difficult time reaching back with his own hands to attempt to braid his own hair. It was more than long enough to work with. It was just more difficult.

At Duo's fifth failed attempt at braiding his own hair, Wufei placed down his half-written report and walked over, settling behind the injured male. The other froze and complied rather easily when Wufei tapped his hands to get them out of the way.

Taking Duo's hair tie, Wufei divided the hair into three segments before beginning to tie them together like a rope. The hair was still thick as ever, but it was definitely harder to braid when it was short like this. Wufei worked through it thoroughly, twisting bits of hair to fit them in a little better. He tied off the end and flicked the braid once sideways. With the hair braided, the length of it was exactly at the middle of his back. Give another year or two and the mane would be back to its normal long length.

Wufei sat back and watched as Duo fiddled with his shorter braid with an almost... childlike curiosity. Hazy purple eyes glanced back at Wufei and for a moment, the Chinese male thought he'd done something wrong by braiding Duo's hair for him. Then a small smile touched Duo's lips and it had to be one of the most sincere smiles Wufei had ever received from the other. It was almost enough to make Wufei smile himself, but he held back. He ruffled Duo's bangs lightly, like a parent gently teasing their child, before retracting his hand.

They were both well on the mend.


End file.
